


Muscles of the soul

by artisan447



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: 2x15, Coda, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisan447/pseuds/artisan447
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve knows what it is to be on fast forward, racing against time; trying to get an advantage, <i>any advantage</i>, when the fallout from any mistake will be unthinkable. Knows how disorienting it is when it suddenly all just <i>stops</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muscles of the soul

**Author's Note:**

> It had to happen, right? A teensy coda for 2x15. Many thanks to [](http://dogeared.livejournal.com/profile)[**dogeared**](http://dogeared.livejournal.com/) for the beta.

It's after midnight when Steve finally gives in to the inevitable and takes his eyes off Danny long enough to take a bathroom break. It's pretty funny, really -- people always joke about a SEAL's talent for holding his breath, but Steve's always thought that bladder control's a much more reliable sign of advanced training.

But laughing is the furthest thing from his mind when he steps back into Rachel's living room to find Danny standing still and lost, shirt untucked, shoes off, staring at his violently shaking hands as though they belong to someone else.

"Danny?" he prompts, his own heart beating double-time because he already knows what's going on.

Danny's always been pale by Hawaiian standards, but he's sheet-white now, and when he lifts his eyes, they're unfocused, almost confused. Steve curses himself because he'd sworn that he wouldn't let this happen, wouldn't let Danny face one more moment on his own. Not after the broken "I'm so sorry" at the storage locker. Not after the hospital, and the confusion of where they'd all spend the night; and especially not after it'd taken their combined efforts to settle Rachel and Grace into an exhausted sleep, wrapped together in the middle of Rachel's too-big bed.

It's been a constant mantra, running in the back of his head -- _stay with him, don't let him out of your sight_ \-- the only way he can deal with having been ten steps behind Rick's stupid plan all day. And yet, here he is two steps behind the -- admittedly spectacular -- adrenaline crash because of a stupid fucking toilet break.

He can't pretend to have ever been where Danny is right now -- Jesus, the bastard had his _kid_ \-- but he knows what it is to be on fast forward, racing against time; trying to predict what's coming next, get an advantage, _any advantage_ , when the fallout from any mistake will be unthinkable. Knows how disorienting it is when it suddenly all just _stops_. If he's honest, the only thing that's surprising is that Danny's brain didn't stop working hours ago.

"Danno," he says again, and maybe he's in shock himself, because his vision's narrowing, bringing Danny into sharp focus.

But, "Huh?" is all Danny manages, and he sounds so bewildered that Steve can't bear it.

He takes the couple of steps needed until he's right in Danny's space, then reaches out and pulls him over to the couch. There's no resistance, no argument -- he's not used to Danny being so pliant -- and it's a second's work to ease them both down. With his own back against the leather and Danny tucked into the space in front of him, Steve wraps his body around his partner and holds on tight.

"They're okay, Danny," he murmurs, burying his face in Danny's hair and saying the words he knows need to be said; the words he'll say over and over and over until they can both dare to believe. "They're okay."

He slips his hands under Danny's shirt, runs them over bare skin, pressing belief into his flesh and the soft promise of a kiss to the back of his head. And when Danny finally sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, turns and leaves his own kiss in the hollow of Steve's throat whispering "They're okay" in return, Steve just holds on even tighter. Because they are; or they will be. And he's never letting go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted [on Livejournal](http://ms-artisan.livejournal.com/130067.html)


End file.
